


AU August

by heartlinks (kuroikitsu), kuroikitsu



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen, Genderfluid Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroikitsu/pseuds/heartlinks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroikitsu/pseuds/kuroikitsu
Summary: 30 (maybe 31) oneshots for AU August based on mystic messenger
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel & Han Jumin, Kang Jaehee/Main Character (Mystic Messenger), implied Choi Luciel/Kim Yoosung
Kudos: 7





	1. Cafe AU

**Author's Note:**

> The goal is one a day but I can't guarantee that. We shall see. Because I'm literally writing and posting in the same day these are all going to be unedited messes. Hopefully one day I'll be able to go through and edit them or get a beta. One day.

“So…. Has your ‘gorgeous business woman’ come in today?” Yoosung bumped his shoulder against Mi Cha’s. 

“Shush!” She laughed even as her cheeks colored red. Mi Cha just happened to notice her, the beautiful woman who came every day for a latte and had an air of maturity and natural grace. It wasn’t like Mi Cha spent her time in the café waiting for the other woman to come in. That would be silly, she wasn’t a high school girl with her first love.

Yoosung smiled at her even as he let the subject drop- for now. It was strange, Mi Cha was used to being able to tease him, rather than the other way around. Yoosung having the upper hand made her feel like the entire world shifted left by two degrees. Just enough to be disorienting. 

Yoosung fussed with the pastry display as Mi Cha wiped down the counter. It was slow, slower than usual for a Friday midmorning. Was there an event that she didn’t know about that was stealing all the students that usually came? She sighed and contemplated running to the back to check the stock. It would atleast give her something to do. “Hey, ‘Sungie-“ She started before the door chimed. Mi Cha would never admit how quickly she stood to attention. 

The soft click of heels echoed in Mi Cha’s ear as the customer approached the counter. There was no black business suit today, Mi Cha noted. Rather than the smart skirt, sharp blazer and starched shirt, the woman was wearing a yellow sundress and a cream cardigan. A matching cream belt gently cinched in the waist of the dress, just enough to show the elegant figure of the woman who wore it. Her hair was parted with a white clip pulling back part of her bangs. She was laughing lightly at whatever the tall redhead woman beside her had said.

She had the laugh of someone who didn’t do so often, quiet and almost cautious. Mi Cha wanted her to be able to laugh all the time in that moment. She knew she could listen to it forever. “Hello.” The woman greeted her, once she got to the counter.

This close, Mi Cha could see the peachy tone of lipstick clinging to what would surely be soft lips. This close she could see that dress was the perfect shade to bring out the honey brown of the woman’s eyes. Only the counter separated them and she caught a whiff of soft perfume, Jasmine and Mandarin. Soft but mature. Some part of Mi Cha realized she was staring. 

“Uh….” Mi Cha knew she had a brain. And she knew it worked better than this! “Welcome?” That wasn’t supposed to be a question. “Yes, welcome.” God, she was an idiot. 

Yoosung was doing a slightly better job than the red haired woman at hiding his laughter. She supposed it should count for something that Yoosung was attempting to hide it. Unlike the other two, the brunette frowned. She didn’t look mad, but rather concerned. “Are you alright?” She asked. 

_ Get it together Mi Cha! _ “I’m fine!” She cleared her throat, mostly to stop herself from yelling. “A mocha latte with a shot of expresso, right? Or would you like something else today.” Mi Cha hoped that came across more as competent than creepy.

Brown eyes widened, just for a moment before the woman smiled. “You got it right,” she said before turning to her companion. “Would you like anything?”

“I’m good.” The red head replied. When the woman gave her a stern look, she changed her mind. “Ah… maybe a hot chocolate?”

“One day I’ll get you to eat real food.” She muttered. The only reason Mi Cha heard it was because she was so close. She went to pull out cash. 

Mi Cha was quick to stop her. “It’s on me. The least I can do for nearly shouting at you.” She offered a smiled. 

The woman blinked at her. “I don’t mind paying.”

“No, no, no, no. Please allow me.” She insisted. She received a confused look, but the brunette put the bills away in a cute white bag that matched her hairclip. 

Yoosung handed her a Sharpie. She took it, though she didn’t bother to tried to hide the confusion on her face. He nodded towards the cups and handed him one. “Can we have your names?” He asked the two women with a bright smile.

“Yoosung, they are the only two here! I doubt we’ll get confused.” Mi cha said before the women could say anthing. Yoosung merely uncapped his own sharpie and smiled even brighter.

“Luciana.” The redhead replied. Her voice was deeper and huskier than Mi Cha thought. 

“Jaehee.” Her voice was light and clear in a way that reminded Mi Cha of crystal.

Yoosung started writing on the cup and Mi Cha did the same, adding the characters of Jaehee’s name. The blond cleared his throat and she glanced over to notice he was writing numbers on Luciana’s cup. Well, that was straightforward and obvious. She took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn’t regret this. 

‘Jaehee, call me? 82xx-xxx-xxxx Mi Cha.’ Her cheeks grew warm as she wrote down her number. She had never done this before, giving out her number to someone she hadn’t even had a full conversation with. She busied herself making the latte so she could stop thinking about it. She had already done it; she couldn’t go back now.

Yoosung finished his drink first, handing it to Luciana. Mi Cha gave Jaehee hers, even as she was unable to meet the other woman’s face. Instead she stared at Jaehee’s hands. The fingers were long and slender with short but had beautifully manicured nails. “Here you are.” She announced, her hand wrapped far enough around the cup to hide what she wrote.

“Thank you.” Jaehee tells her and Mi Cha feels anticipation swell in her chest. “Are you ready?” Jaehee asks her friend. Luciana nods and the two walk out.

When the door closes Mi Cha sighs, slumping down over the counter. “Oh my god….” 

“So  _ that’s _ the beautiful office woman who always orders a medium latte and has a smile like sunshine? I admit she’s pretty.” Yoosung commented, leaning on the counter next to her.

“She’s gorgeous.” Mi Cha corrected. “Her name is beautiful too.”

“I can’t believe you never asked her for it before! I wonder if her friend is foreign? Luciana’s a pretty unusual name.”

Mi Cha turned to Yoosung. His face was frowned in thought. About Luciana. A smile crossed her face but before she could say anything, the door to the cafe swung open again, forcing both of them to stand up properly.

Luciana’s face popped through the opening. “The answer’s yes Yoosung. It’ll be yes if you want to ask me another question too.” She was grinning from ear to ear, even as Jaehee stood behind her, trying to pull her from the open doorway. Neither woman stayed after that and Mi Cha and Yoosung watched as they bickered and continued on their way. 

She glanced over at Yoosung. His face was as red as a tomato. “So, she said yes.” Mi Cha started conversationally. Yoosung sputtered, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. It wasn’t physically possible for him to get even redder so quickly but Mi Cha felt the need to press on. “What did she say yes to, Yoosungie?”

“I asked- I was gonna-she agreed,” he stuttered, trying to get his thoughts in order. “She agreed to help me keep tabs on  _ you _ .”His voice hit a whining note that it only ever did when he felt embarrassed. In fact, Mi Cha couldn’t consider a tease successful until he hit that note. 

“Are you sure she didn’t want to say yes to something else? Like a date?”

“You think?” Yoosung was quick to respond, hope making his voice high and light. 

“I didn’t realize you liked your girls tall with deep sultry voices and bright hair. I thought you liked short brunettes…. Well the long hair is the same.” Mi Cha grinned. 

“Mi Cha!” It might have been a bit mean to tease him about the crush he had on her when they first met. She wouldn’t keep doing it though, if he didn’t remain so adorably embarrassed by it. 

“Alright, alright.” Mi Cha would buy him a cupcake, for letting her tease him so often. “I don’t know if she meant a date but you should try it.” 

“Why?” 

“She already said yes.”

“You think that was serious?” Yoosung yelped. 

Mi Cha shrugged, trying not to think about the fact that the notes were clearly seen but Jaehee hadn’t come back inside. She just hoped she hadn’t gone too far. 

That night Mi Cha heard her phone pulse when she got out the shower. Dressed in fresh pajamas, she checked her messages. 

‘If you’d like we can get coffee together sometime. Or the four of us could meet if you’d prefer a more casual setting. -Jaehee.’

Formal but to the point, and most importantly, proof that Jaehee wanted to see her again. Actually, the more she looked at it, the more it looked like an invitation for a date. Mi Cha didn’t reply right away, opening a text to Yoosung instead. ‘Ask her out. We might be able to swing a double date. d(-_^)’. Mi Cha giggled to herself as she sent it, nerves and happiness making her giddy. She opened Jaehee’s message again.

‘I would love to get coffee. When are you available?’


	2. Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's day 2! On time at that, surprisingly. We'll see how long this streak lasts....

There were a few things Jumin noticed the moment he walked into his condo. The first was that Elizabeth the third was not in her usual spot at the doorway to greet him. The second was Luciel lounging on his furniture as though he belonged. The third was Elizabeth the third, playing with a long quill like feather in front of Luciel. Jumin did not own anything with such long feathers. Luciel must have brought it in with him. As far as toys for Elizabeth the third, it was almost appropriate. Almost.

"Luciel, I warned you not to toy with Elizabeth the third."

Luciel turns his face toward Jumin, even as the rest of his remained stretched out along Jumin's couch. "I'm not even touching Elly! Besides, look at how happy she is."

"Her name is Elizabeth the third." He informed Luciel once again. It was only the thirty seventh time this week.

"Yeah…" Luciel responded with a wince that Jumin barely caught before he turned away. It was more than unusual to see. Luciel always exuded cheer and inanity in equally high levels. It had always been obviously false, but it was disconcerting to see the mask falter. Even more so that he did not challenge Jumin on Elizabeth the third’s name. 

“Are you injured, Luciel?” He asked. Jumin didn’t believe he would receive a truthful answer, but felt it was important to ask anyway. Luciel was still here for a reason. Jumin didn’t doubt for a moment that the hacker knew his schedule and could have been gone without a trace. His security was competent, but Luciel had weaseled his way around them multiple times before. 

“I’m fine!” Luciel waved, sitting up so he no longer lunged across from the entire couch. A flicker of movement caught his eye. Not just his, as Elizabeth the third meowed and darted over to the couch. She batted at a long white feather that most certainly had not been there a moment ago. In fact, Jumin was sure the feather had come from Luciel’s jacket. Jumin could not recall it ever shedding feathers before. Especially not ones nearly 30 centimeters long. If Luciel was hiding something in his jacket, Jumin certainly had the right to know before he left whatever it was in his home. He would examine the material himself. He approached normally, as though he were heading for Elizabeth, who chased the feather as it shifted each time her delicate paw touched it. Luciel wasn’t difficult to catch if one used the right tactic. For the moment, Jumin would simply use Luciel’s knowledge of Jumin’s dislike for approaching people to his advantage. 

He leaned over to hold out his left hand to Elizabeth the third and with his right grabbed the back of Luciel’s collar. The redhead hadn’t expected it and the grab went even smoother than Jumin anticipated. “Remove this.” He ordered. 

Luciel struggled. He tried to worm his way out of Jumin’s grip, first by yanking himself forward, then trying to shove back into Jumin to dislodge him. If Jumin hadn’t had the foresight to change his grip and keep his hands on the jacket rather than Luciel’s person, Luciel certainly would have gotten what he wanted. It left no doubt Luciel had escaped an unwanted grab before. Jumin wondered if it related to the job he spoke very little detail of. 

As it was, Luciel escaped, but the jacket was very much still in Jumin’s hands. The moment he saw Luciel without it, he knew why the redhead insisted on wearing it everywhere. 

If one were to ask anyone in the RFA, or even Jumin in particular what sort of wings Choi Luciel would have if he randomly sprouted them, they would receive one or two answers. Black leathery devil wings to reflect Luciel’s mischievous teasing nature. Or perhaps something completely unique that has never been seen before, directly out of Luciel’s wild imagination. No one would picture long pure white swan like feathers. And yet, that was what Jumin saw before him.

He glanced between Luciel’s back and the jacket, which had quite a few of the feathers stuck inside. More shedding than usual for an avian, if Jumin’s memories from childhood could be trusted. He had an excellent memory. 

Luciel had turned to face him and blanched seeing his jacket in Jumin’s hands. His hands reached out, as though to grab it back before stopping half way. Jumin supposed he realized it was futile now to hide what Jumin had already seen. Instead, he seemed to be waiting to see what Jumin would say. 

Jumin thought to himself for a moment, idly glad for his ability to keep a cool head in any circumstances. He had no proof, but the idea that scaring Luciel now meant he would vanish had taken root in his mind. It would be a shame for the RFA to lose someone with his caliber of skill. “You are shedding more than a usual amount of feathers.” Jumin commented, keeping his tone as flat and mildly exasperated as it had been all day. 

Luciel’s poker face was impeccable. There was no clear moment of relief. Jumin more so felt the tension leave the room, rather than any specific visual cue. “And how would you know about that?” Luciel asked, his voice more lighthearted and at ease than it had been at any other point that day. It sounded genuine, Jumin was pleased to note. 

“Jihyun kept a parrot when he was younger. I accompanied him often enough to help raise it.” Jumin folded the jacket and placed it aside until he could find an appropriate receptacle for it. He couldn’t have it continue to drop feathers all around his house. When he finished, he headed to the kitchen to feed Elizabeth the third. It was past her dinnertime. 

Luciel followed him and watched as he portioned out cat food. Jumin didn’t know why. It wasn’t anything odd or unique like Luciel’s… condition. “I’m moulting.” He said at last. It made sense for why he would shed such an unusual amount of feathers if that was the case. But there was still something that did not make any sense about the entire scenario. 

“Why are you here?” Since Luciel had a habit of sneaking around his security and waiting for Jumin to find out, it made no sense to come at a time he was likely to leave traces. It made even less sense for him to stay, when he could easily hack into Jumin’s digital schedule and know exactly what time he would come home. 

Luciel shrugged. “My precious Elly likes feathers. If I’m moulting anyway, might as well give them to her.” He stretched his wings a little, causing a few more feathers to dislodge. 

“She is not yours.” Jumin snapped. “And her name is Elizabeth the third.” Luciel grinned widely at him and Jumin bit back a sigh. Thirty eight times this week so far. He was certain Luciel baited him to saying it as a joke but even still Jumin couldn’t stand the thought of letting Elizabeth the third’s name be mangled. 

Luciel’s wing twitched, a small movement amplified by the size of the large appendages. Jumin couldn’t deny his curiosity about them but he doubted Luciel would answer. He had a habit of not just avoiding, but completely changing the subject when asked anything about himself. It was far better to observe and extrapolate than question. 

The wings looked as though they might be soft to touch once straightened. Not as soft as Elizabeth the third’s fur, but appealing nonetheless. At the moment though, the jacket had pressed them every which way and Jumin wanted to see what they would look like, groomed neatly as they should be. “I will help you groom them.” He declared.

“No, that’s fine!”

“Improper grooming leads to irritation, itching and possible sores. You can’t reach your back. I will help you.” He repeated firmly.

This time Luciel gave in. “Alright.” Jumin marched him over to one of the stools in his kitchen, usually used for Elizabeth to keep him company while not being on the table. It was tall and backless and that was good enough for now. Jumin straightened the feathers methodically, giving the task his full attention. The wings would be much better if they were neat and presentable. “Aren’t you going to ask anything else?” Luciel asked after about twenty minutes had passed in silence. 

“You will speak or not when you are ready,” was all Jumin had to say. Denying he had questions would be a lie but forcing the issue certainly wouldn’t help. Willing information was more accurate information and pushing the issue wouldn’t make anything better. This was something tangible he was doing to solve the situation at hand, rather than worry about the how or the why. 

As he straightened the flight feathers at the tip of Luciel’s wing, he caught Luciel’s lips tilt into a small smile. “Thanks Jumin.”

He didn’t respond and simply continued straightening the next row of feathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I am terrible at writing Jumin or Seven. I'll be honest I'm terrible at writing all of them as I'm still finding my voice for the MM crew. If there is anything jarringly off character, let me know and I'll try to work on it for next time. 
> 
> 2) I originally planned to include the reason Seven has white wings in this but it didn't fit at all. If anyone is curious let me know. Maybe I'll write another oneshot which explores the rest of the RFA finding out and learning the how but as I wrote this that part felt more and more forced so I just left it out.


	3. Time Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time travel Zen back in his teenage body need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone that hasn't finished Zen's route, Seven's and the secret ending, spoilers for that.
> 
> Once again completely unedited as I'm desperately trying to write these and get them out on time.

Zen didn’t wake up to the sound of his phone alarm. Instead, it was the voice of his mother, which was odd as Zen hadn’t imagined her voice for years. It set him on alert instantly and he jolted up in his bed. Not his bed. He took another look. Blue striped sheets. A large desk taking up nearly an entire wall. A small closet and dresser on the other side of the room. Absolutely no mirrors anywhere. The walls were a plain pale cream shade and there was a distinctive scuff on the left side of the desk where it had been kicked. This hadn’t been Zen’s room for nearly seven years. 

His mother’s head poked through the door. “Why aren’t you dressed? Go to school, study! Get this acting and singing nonsense out of your head.” That stated, she left. 

Zen  _ had _ to be dreaming. He had had dreams about the future before, it only made sense that he could also dream about the past, even if he had never done it before. Zen had never been one to dwell much on the past. It was one of the few things he and that jerk Jumin actually agreed on. Zen pinched his arm, hard and sharp, hoping the pain would wake himself up. It got him nothing but a red mark on his arm. Zen frowned. This was certainly a stubborn nightmare. He would just have to play this out until he woke up on his own.

Zen got dressed, noting that his body felt both shorter and weaker than it had. In a dream, shouldn’t he still feel the same? His closet was full of a school uniform Zen barely remembered. In fact, he was surprised at how much detail the uniform had in this dream considering how little attention he paid to it back when he had to wear it. It suited him, from what he could tell without a full size mirror. The one above the sink in the bathroom wasn’t nearly long enough for him to get a full picture but it was enough to give him a good idea. Youth gave his face a soft charm he had lost. With his body more lithe than muscular, he slid closer to androgynous than he had since he started working. There was also an effortless bouncines to his skin, even as stressed as he’d been during this time of his life. Maybe it would come back if he quit smoking? Not that he didn’t look good as himself now- he did. But there was something about his face then that he hadn’t quite realized he missed. 

He hummed to himself as he straightened his necktie. It was a good thing he wore them for some of his shows, otherwise he might have forgotten how to tie one. He headed straight outside rather than risking the kitchen. Even in a dream, hearing his mother call him ugly wasn’t something he wanted to experience again. He had enough of that in reality and saw no need to deal with it again. 

The entire day felt familiar, even if he hadn’t paid attention to any of the specifics. The classes vaguely felt like he had them before, the conversations around him didn’t seem new or intriguing and Zen wondered why his dream had him slowly going through this entire day. Was there something special here? And then, after school as he wandered trying to find a way to not go home, he saw it. An ad for an audition, posted the exact same place it had been seven years ago. The auditions were for a small stage play, but the show was paid. He had stared at that ad for a full ten minutes the first time, filled with longing and desire. That show had been the turning point and he remembered thinking decisively “If I can get into this one, I’ll seriously pursue being an actor, even if I have to run away from home.” He only had a handful of speaking lines, but he had done it. This time, he glanced for a moment or so, smiled to himself and kept walking. He got to the corner and blacked out. 

Zen woke to insanely bright lights, the smell of antiseptic, and a murmur of voices. And pain. The back of his head was killing him. “Ow…” He blinked a few times and then tried to sit up. 

“You hit your head; lay back down.” His brother told him, gently pushing Zen back into the bed. 

“What happened?” He asked as he let himself be pushed back.

“Apparently you got hit by a car.”

Oh. That certainly wasn’t what Zen expected. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a dream anymore. A car accident would have woke him up. But if this was real and he was in the past, what should Zen do now? His head should heal in a few days and hopefully the hospital will let him out by tomorrow considering he was now conscious. 

Knowing what would happen in the future, in such length and detail meant that he was the only person who could prevent it. MC had done an amazing job, once she joined, filling up the holes in their psyches and shoring up their confidence each in turn. If Zen made it so she didn’t have quite so much work, that would be good. His tribute to an MC that only he would remember, answering desperate phone calls at 3 am just to assure her friends they were important and perfect as themselves, waiting and trusting while they confronted known danger, or coming with them when necessary. 

Well, if he thought about who had the biggest effect on everyone, that would be Rika. But even in that future that was no more (the future he dreamt?), they had not been able to help her. What on Earth could he possibly do to help her on his own? He wasn’t sure how to help V either. Especially not now, before he met Rika and got sucked into feeling guilty over her. Who else could he possibly help and make it have an effect? Maybe Seven, and his brother? How? Be the person to take care of Seven’s brother instead of Rika?

“Hyun, the doctor is discharging you so you can rest at home instead.” Zen heard his brother say as he nudged him out of the hospital bed. Zen frowned, his attention much more on this thoughts than what was going on around him. Zen would physically be fine, and this definitely needed his attention more. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He ran away from home before, managed to get himself enough work to pay for a place and take care of himself the first time. This time, Zen had the advantage of knowing exactly which places will hire him, what trouble to avoid even if it was easy money, and even if the experience was in his head rather than his body he  _ had _ developed as an actor. He would be able to get better roles faster this time around. If he didn’t bother getting his motorcycle and started saving as soon as possible he should have enough money to make it work. It would at least be better than what would happen otherwise. Decision made, he let himself relax a bit. 

He made it home in one piece, but it was odd the way his brother fussed over him. It had been a long time since Zen had felt comfortable in his company. A long time since he hadn’t been angry with him. He was still angry and being around him still made Zen feel antsy, but it also reminded him that his brother hadn’t always been on his mother’s side. He might not have ever really been on Zen’s but there was a time where the man had been a buffer between them. Zen might still be angry with him, but he wasn’t as angry as he used to be. If Zen was honest with himself, he was more saddened and jealous of how close Jumin was to his father despite their strife, rather than angry. 

Atleast this time before he ran, he could say something resembling a goodbye. Instead of storming out after the high of his first successful audition was ripped apart. “I’m still going to do theater.” He didn’t bother to look directly at his brother, letting the words hold their own weight. “I’m good at it you know.” 

“Tsk. Get your head out of the clouds Zen and study. Acting? Music? Not even bashing your head on the pavement can beat some sense into you.” It wasn’t anything Zen hadn’t heard before- well the beating his head was new. Still, at this point, Zen was sure his brother said the words because he believed they should be said. He had to know at this point that Zen wasn’t listening. Especially since his brother left after that without another word. 

That audition was the end of this week. It was his starting point once and it could be again. He didn’t remember what he did for the audition last time, but he was sure he could pull something together this time. In the morning he would double check what day it was and spend the rest of his time practicing. That was much more important than studying for some test he was going to ditch anyway. 

Zen made it through the audition this time too. In a slightly bigger role than he had last time, a clear sign that he had definitely improved. He didn’t wait after that. He came home long enough to pack his clothes and say he wasn’t coming back. The next thing on the list? See if he could even find Seven and Ray. He wouldn’t be able to help at all if he didn’t meet them and get them to trust him. He vaguely remembered Seven mentioning once that he used to hang around a church as a kid. He supposed he would have to start there. Zen could work on getting his apartment in the meantime. 

Seven months later, Zen was nearly ready to bang his head against the wall. He had been to every freaking church in the city without seeing that crazy nuisance at all! Did Seven only go on weekends? That would ruin everything as Zen worked every weekend! He bought dinner at a convenience store and headed to a park nearby. Hopefully the nature would do him some good. If he stayed until nightfall and he could walk home under the stars. Of course, that’s when he saw Seven. Same messy red hair and affinity for baggy clothes. There were no glasses though and instead of a laptop or phone, he had his nose stuck in a book. Zen could work with this.

He plopped down on the other end of the park bench Seven was using. “You bored too?” he asked, keeping his voice as casual as possible. This was just like any other role Zen had ever played, except this time he was on stage without practicing first. 

Seven pulled back, haunching in on himself partially. “What’s it to you?”

Zen raised his hands in surrender. He hadn’t expected Seven to be this hostile. Even knowing Seven hadn’t always had his trickster face, it was strange facing a Seven not smiling or joking with him. “Just making conversation.”

“Are you alright Hyung?” There was suddenly a second Seven next to the first, looking warily between him and Seven. It took longer than it should have for Zen to realize it was Ray. To be fair, he was used to the silver hair and mint green eyes. 

“It’s fine.” Seven told his brother, relaxing just enough to put Ray more at ease. Seven kept himself between Ray and Zen, like he thought he’d have to jump in from Zen trying to kidnap Ray.

It wasn’t the vibe Zen was going for. “I’ll leave if you want me to.” He offered.

“Why are you out here?” Ray asked. Unlike Seven, his voice held curiosity rather than wariness. 

“I was bored…. And a little lonely.” It was more honest than he had planned but he let it stand. He missed  _ his _ friends. His Seven who played too many pranks, his Yoosung who was too addicted to games and easily influenced, MC who always managed to know the right why to rile him up and calm him down, Jaehee with her sincere concern, even that jerk Jumin who never listened to anyone and kept trying to get him to like cats. And he was never going to get them back, not the way he had them before, if everything went right. 

“Lonely, huh?” Ray questioned thoughtfully, glancing up at the slowly darkening sky.

“Why are you alone anyway?” This time Seven sounded much less hostile. 

Zen shrugged. “I live alone.” He offered the twins a wry grin, “I’m an actor.”

“You live alone…” Ray repeated quietly, thoughtfully.

“What are you acting?” Seven asked. 

Zen opened his mouth to respond when he heard the twins stomachs growl loudly. In sync. Zen hadn’t expected the twinness to extend that far. He couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Hungry?” He asked, holding out the dinner he bought to them. Skipping one meal wouldn’t hurt him. It was something he had done before when money was tight after all. All of the hostility was back in Seven’s face. “It’s not opened,” Zen continued, trying to placate him, “you can check if you want.”

Ray was the one who pulled the meal out the package. “He’s right hyung,” he told Seven. 

“How about dinner and a show? I’ll get company and more practice for the show I’m doing now, you get to eat and let me know if I made any mistakes. The script should be in there too.” It was. Zen always kept scripts with him even after he memorized it. 

Ray looked over at Seven, hopeful. “Alright,” Seven agreed. It felt like a win. He could do this and hopefully make things better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Took advantage of the fact that in game it seems perfectly common for Seven to not only cosplay but for people to think his pictures are of someone afab, especially when it first comes up in mm. So female pronouns as to MC and Yoosung, Seven is just a tall woman. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as fic updates. I personally hate having things tagged that aren't in a work yet when I'm looking for something so I try to tag my works only with stuff that's actually in it at time of posting.


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